Chapter 2, A Simple Fall

Continuation of Antler's story

“Antler, food!” His mother yelled from the other room. He could smell fresh cooked potatoes and egg, the smoking of salted ham, hear the sizzling of meat in the frying pan and the clattering of wooden plates being laid on the table. Being a poor farmer was better than being most other kinds of peasants. Even peasants from the cities only had pigeon, a bird with meat good enough for most, but incomparable to ham. Not to mention most didn’t have fresh eggs or milk, unless they owned chicken or livestock themselves. And most had never tasted beef in their life. Farmers though, at least where he lived, had cows and pigs and chicken and wheat. They had to give a large portion of that to the Lord-Keepers collectors, but what they kept they could sell or eat.

Antler slipped out of bed and went into the other room. There were plates on the table but food had not been dished out yet.

“Blessed morning, mother.”

“A blessed morning indeed. The blizzard was short.” She flipped the meat over in the frying

pan. It was cast iron, and had taken his parents quite a long to time to save enough coin to buy one.

“Is father out clearing the paths?”

“Aye, he is. He should be back in soon.” She removed the frying pan from over the flame. “Well sit down, Antler. No reason to be standing.” She slid some ham onto his plate, the grease creating a pool that the potatoes and egg landed in. Antlers mouth watered. “This is the last of our ham, Antler. So, enjoy it.”

“The ham your smoking is meant for the market, then?” Antler took a bite of the egg, the yolk burst in his mouth and streamed down his chin.

“Some of it, aye.”

“And the rest for winter?” His mouth was full of meat and egg.

“Yes. So, don’t touch it.” She finished dishing out the rest of the food onto their plates.

“Didn’t even cross my mind, mother.”

“Oh, I’m sure it didn’t.” They smiled at each other. Antler heard footsteps in the dirt, and the crunching of snow from outside, then the sound of boots on wood as his father got closer to the house. The door swung open and his father stood just outside, stomping his boots on the ground to rid them of mud and water. His cheeks and nose were hot red and snow was caught in his beard. He removed his wool cap, and ran his fingers through his hair, wet with water and sweat.

“Blessed morning, Antler.”

“Blessed morning father. How deep were the snows today?”

“No higher than your ankle,” He replied, dropping into his chair at the head of the table. Still, I should’ve liked your help.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“If I had known you’d sleep so late, I certainly would’ve. I had half a mind to come back here and rouse you, and I might’ve had Mr. Jyr’s roof not collapsed. I told that man to replace his thatch as far back as last winter if he wished to avoid it falling in on him. Even then it was a full year past its life. It was half-a-head thick at most! It lasted for fifteen years, he said, it could last another one. Gah, he’s stubborn man, and stubborn men always end up hurting themselves, I tell ya. It fell on his dog, I forgot to mention,” he let out a laugh, “Ah, the pups okay, fortunate for his daughter,” his father paused and looked down at his plate. “Oh, looks delicious love.” He shoved an entire egg in his mouth.

His father was always going off on tirades like that. It was strange; His father spoke little most of the time, but then he could go on for ages about the most bizarre things. He once went on about the proper way to store grain for what felt like an hour. Antler hadn’t even mentioned grain, he asked about a neighbor’s hog, yet he still found his way around to the topic. And what had his father known about storing grain? They raised pigs and chicken.

“Why aren’t you speaking any, son?” Antler hadn’t realized he was being so quiet.

“Oh, just thinking.”

“About?”

“Nothing important. Are there still paths left to clear?” Antler needed to get back to the tavern to get his books. If his father found out that he had forgotten those, he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“A few side paths, mostly. Though Erik and his son are clearing those. Besides, you have chores to do around the house.”

“Perhaps Erik could use my help?”

“I told you his son his helping.”

“He could always use two more hands.”

“Why do want to help the man so much?” Antler didn’t respond in time, and in the pause his mother suggested the reason.

“Those paths are close to Sera’s house, aren’t they?” She said it softly, with understanding in her voice.

“Aye, that they are. Is that what it is then?” Antler figured that lying in this case would be better than the truth.

“Yes.” Unfortunately, Antler wasn’t very good at lying when it came to his parents. His father was unconvinced with his answer. He stared at him for a moment before speaking.

“I want the truth Antler.”

“I uh… I left my books at the tavern.”

“Well then go get them and come back here.”

“I…I left them outside.” His father dropped his fork on the plate.

“Outside? Mal, did our son just say he forgot his books outside during a blizzard?”

“He did.”

“How much were those books, Antler, do you know?” He knew the answer but hesitated to say it. “Out with it.”

“One sliver per.”

“One sliver per,” his father repeated, slowly.

“And how many books did you leave?”

“Four.”

“And four slivers is how much?”

“One gold piece.”

“Aye. One piece. You left a piece worth of books to be soaked by the blizzard. We don’t have very many pieces, do we Antler?”

“No, father.”

“You run down to that tavern and you retrieve those books. And for your sake, they better be immune to the weather. Well what are you waiting for, go!”

“May I get dressed?”

“You may wear your boots.”

Antler sprinted until his lungs hurt and his throat burned. The cold wind left his face numb and his legs began to ache. As he neared the tavern he stepped into some mud much deeper than he expected. His foot got stuck and he flew forward, leaving his boot behind and slamming into the wet soil, sliding a head or two before he came to a stop. He was dripping with sweat and melted snow, his face stung, his legs were weak, and now he was covered in mud. There was a pain coming from his arm and he could feel blood running from his elbow to his hand.

“Oh dear! Antler, are you alright?” Mrs. Naim rushed over to help Antler up. He was disoriented, embarrassed, and in pain, but he managed to choke out a few words.

“I’m okay.” Her eyes widened.

“Antler, your arm.” He lifted it to examine the damage. His sleeve was colored red by the blood and it clung to the wound. He rolled it carefully down his arm. Even after rolling it down, the injury was still covered in mud and soil, making it difficult to figure out how deep the gash was. “Oh, let’s get you inside dear.”

The people in the tavern found it hard to ignore the site of Antler. A young boy, covered in blood and muck, wearing one boot, and still in his nightclothes. A strange image to be sure. Still, as much as he understood why he pulled so many eyes, it didn’t stop him from turning red with embarrassment as he made his way with Mrs. Naim to the back of the tavern.

She closed the door behind them and sat Antler down in a chair. It was a clunky thing, hard edges and no curves, but it did the job.

“You wait here Antler, I’ll be back shortly.” She disappeared through a door at the far side of the room. He was in a bedroom. Mr. and Mrs. Nami’s bedroom presumably. It wasn’t particularly large, but it certainly wasn’t small. A large bed sat towards the middle of the room, it’s head against a grey stone wall. Not cobble or brick, but simply a smooth piece of stone. And it wasn’t the entire length of the wall, just a portion of it, almost like a stone door. That was odd to Antler, but he didn’t think much on it.

The fireplace sat in the wall to his left, a fire burning hot and bright. Above the hearth, a banner was nailed into the wall, the family crest of their Lord-Keeper upon it; A white owl on a field of black, wings extended to either side, a rodent in its claws. People always argued about what the rodent represented, but Antler always figured it was just there for looks. The banner itself seemed to be made out of silk or another equally expensive and rare material, to rare and expensive for tavern owners living this far outside of any major civilization.

There wasn’t much else of note in the room. A few chests and a dresser, as well as an unlit brazier in the corner. Antler suddenly became aware that he was still bleeding. He looked down at the floor; blood was flowing in the crevices between wooden boards and his arm had started to grow pale. Pulled back to the present by his abrupt realization, the discomfort he had forgotten came rushing back. A sharp pain resonated through his entire arm, and his head was pounding as if someone was smacking a mallet against his temple. He wondered when Mrs. Naim would be back.

Just then she walked through the door she had left through, carrying a basin of water, some rags, and fresh nightwear, almost identical to the ones he was wearing. She set the nightwear on the bed then went over to Antler and kneeled next to him. She lifted his arm, her touch deft and gentle. She rolled back the sleeve to reveal the injury. She wet the rag and cleaned his arm, being careful not to disturb the wound too much. Still, it did hurt, and he grimaced with almost every touch. After the mud was cleared away, the cut still poured blood making it difficult for Antler to see how bad it really was.

“Oh, it’s not too deep dear, but it will scar.” She reached into her apron and pulled out two small vials and some wrapping. She held one of the vials up, the liquid inside a deep blue. “This one will stop the bleeding quite quickly, but it will sting like a southern hornet.” She uncorked the vial and Antler took a deep breath. She let just a few drops fall into the wound. The pain was minor at first but quickly grew fierce. His arm flexed and his hand clenched. It was all he could do not to scream. He gritted his teeth and waited for the pain to pass for what felt like an eternity, but finally it did. He exhaled loudly, his breath was ragged now, sweat was beading on his forehead, but the blood had already stopped. “You took that better than most, dear.” She wiped away the blood with a fresh rag and the gash finally became fully visible to Antler. It wasn’t terribly deep, so it wouldn’t require stitching, but it was long. It ran from his elbow to the middle of his forearm, the skin around it was flushed red, and the area around his elbow was bruised a deep purple color She held up the other vial. Inside was a dull white cream, “This will prevent it from festering.”

“Will it hurt like the first?”

“Not at all.” She unstopped the vial and dipped her finger inside. She spread it over the wound carefully then unwound the wrapping. She put some more of the cream on it and began winding it around his arm.

“Mrs. Naim?”

“Oh, yes dear?”

“Where’d you get a banner so fine?” She looked above the hearth and smiled at its sight.

“It was a gift from Lord Mallard. His daughter had fallen ill and I helped nurse her back to health.”

“And he only gave you a banner?”

“It was all we asked for. Jasper is a humble man. Still, Mallard felt we had done him a service worth more than some silk. So, he gave us our choice of land, and the men to build something upon it.”

“You chose to build a tavern out here?”

“It was our home, me and Jaspers. We grew up here. We had no desire to be anywhere else.” She had a look of fond remembrance. She finished wrapping his arm and smiled at him.

“There we go dear. Good as new. Well not so new, but it does the job.”

“Thank you.” He rubbed his arm. It still hurt, but not as much. Or perhaps the agony he had felt just moments ago had made him more grateful of lesser pains.

“Oh, don’t mention it. Though you really should be more careful.”

“I know. I was in a hurry.”

“What could possibly be so important?” Antler felt fairly ashamed of the answer.

“It seems rather stupid of me now, but I was rushing here to grab my books. I left them just out front last night. Though I’m sure the blizzard has ruined them.” Her smile widened.

“Oh, I told Jasper they were yours, but that didn’t stop him from putting them in his chest. I found them when I was out shuddering the windows for the night.” She moved over to the chest and placed the books on the bed. “You should really get the rest of you cleaned up before you go. These clothes should fit you well enough, and I had someone go and fetch your boot. I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”

He was getting his trousers on when the door creaked open.

“I thought Mrs. Naim said no one would bother me.” Antler was very curious as to who might be coming through the door.

“She did. I thought I might be an exception though. She seemed to agree.” He knew the voice well.

“Sera!” He heard the door latch shut and the sound of footsteps as she walked across the wood towards him. He turned to face her. She had a new woolen gown, a blue one with brown accents. A cloak of dirty white sheepskin hung on her shoulders, and a pair of brown mittens were dangling from her thin leather belt.  “How’d you know I was here?” His tone made his excitement clear.

“I heard some men in the tavern talking about a ragged boy in bloody nightwear. Didn’t know who else that could be.” He smiled at her.

“What about Willum? He’s one for trouble.”

“Not one for bleeding though.”

“That’s true enough.” She looked at his arm.

“How bad is it?”

“Mrs. Naim said it would definitely scar. Could be worse, though.”

“Any stitches?” She lifted his arm up and looked it over, turning it over carefully, examining the faded wrapping

“No. No stitches. Though there was a blue liquid, hurt more than any pain I’ve ever felt.”

“It’s called Eranoir’s Elixir. I brewed it myself.”

“It worked quickly.” Sera smiled at him.

“Mrs. Naim is an excellent teacher. She says I’m good enough to get into the School of Alchemy. That’d I’d rival the skills of the man who taught her. With the proper teaching, of course.”

“They’d be sure to accept you if you’d only apply. And they don’t ask for coin like the other schools do.” Her smile fell away.

“I have to stay here to take care of my mother. My father knows little of medicine and alchemy. We couldn’t afford the trip anyways.”

“I’ve overheard Mrs. Naim offer to take care of your mother in your absence, and the school is willing to pay the cost of the trip if someone is gifted enough. And I’m certain you are.”

“It’s so far, though. I’d be away from mother and father. I’d leave Mrs. Naim behind.” She paused, perhaps questioning if she should say the words that came to her next. “I’d have to leave you behind,” she finally added.

“The world would benefit from your skills. Truly, they would. You could take care of kings and their children, help knights on the battlefield.”

“What if I don’t want to help kings and knights?”

“Work in a city clinic, then. Where you could help the orphans and the sickly. And you wouldn’t be gone forever, only a few years. And then you could come back to Ruq. You’d be working in Gaurin, but you’d be close enough to visit.”

“Why do you want me to go so much? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you wished to get rid of me.”

“Never. I’ll miss you. More than I’ve ever missed anything. But I know you’ve always wanted to train under a true master of alchemy. And why should I or anyone keep you from that?” She was looking at the ground, trying think of a response. He lifted her chin until their eyes met. She had eyes like violets, a deep purple you’d get lost in.

“What if you’re not here when I’m back?” She spoke the words softly, quietly, almost a whisper.

“Where would I go? I’m a farmer’s son. I don’t have a talent like you do. I was born here and I’ll die here and that will be my life. That doesn’t have to be yours though.”

“You could live with me in the city when I return.”

“I don’t think I could. There’s no way for me to make a living in Gaurin. I raise pigs and chickens. Harvest wheat on occasion. There isn’t much wheat in the city. And if someone has pigs and chickens, I’m sure they don’t need my help raising them. No, this is where I belong. With the farmers and cattle and wheat and barley. I’ve come to accept that.”

“I don’t even know the next time I’m going to Gaurin.”

“Well if we go before you do, come with us. We’ll be making the trip in three weeks. I’m sure my father wouldn’t mind the added person. Plus, he is quite fond of you. He thinks us a good match.”

“And what do you think of us?” She wrapped his arms around him. Antler placed his hands on her hips. There was a silence between them.

“Depends on the day,” he responded humorously. Sera laughed and shook her head.

“I thought you’ve been much too serious today.” They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, neither speaking.

The door opened, another private moment interrupted by the creaking of old hinges. Mrs. Naim entered carrying a single boot.

“You’re still not dressed Antler?” She tossed his boot to him. He caught it clumsily, surprised by the force behind the throw. “I’m sure your father is wondering where you are by now.” Antler finished getting dressed as quickly as he could. He had forgotten why he had originally come to the tavern, and if he wasn’t back soon enough, he’d be in even more trouble. He gave Sera a kiss on the cheek, thanked Mrs. Naim once more as she handed Antler his books and told him to be careful, and ran out the door. He was more careful this time, moving quickly, but not too quickly.

He met his father at the door, books in hand, new nightwear, a wrapping around his arm, and a story to tell. A story his father very much wanted to hear.